


ROYL: The Last Heroes' Dream

by Helios_Sunwolf



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helios_Sunwolf/pseuds/Helios_Sunwolf
Summary: The Writer, searching for answers to his place in the world. The Hunter, fighting for vengeance on those who wronged his family. The Prodigy, struggling against the restraints from her past and her fear. The Extrovert, singing at the world, hoping it will sing back, and that it will help heal the dark soul she hides within.Join the Adventures of Team ROYL; their joys, their sorrows, their obstacles, and their choices. Listen if you will, as I tell you their tale, the tale of the Last Heroes' Dream!





	

**Author's Note:**

> The First story of many! Let me tell you of the Days of High Adventure!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Ray Aureus, and others of Team ROYL in the first iteration of the Last Heroes' Dream.

**_The story begins with a Journey…_ **

 

“Doesn’t she look a little young to be going to Beacon?”

The question circulated throughout the airship. The ‘popular’ crowds seemed to want to discuss little else, being solely focused on finding other people’s faults. Most of the teens on this ship, however, were excited enough to be going to _the_ Beacon Academy, the school to train Huntsmen and Huntresses, that they simply asked the question once before going back to their discussions about Beacon and all the new experiences they would have.

When a passerby posed the question to Ray Aureus, he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned around and looked at the girl in question.

She was small, maybe 15, although her height wasn’t a guarantee of anything. Her outfit was entirely based on a red and black color scheme. Her tall black combat boots had red soles and red tops. She wore black tights and a laced up black combat skirt with red ruffles. Her weapon, some sort of transformable rifle, was painted red and black and was attached to a hook on her lower back. The most noticeable part of her outfit however, was the bright red cloak and hood that she wore over the rest. As she talked to a taller girl with a magnificent tangle of long blond hair, Ray noticed that her naturally dark brown hair had dyed red tips.

The stranger who had asked the question, after waiting for an answer and then realizing that he wasn’t going to get one, put on an affronted look and then walked away, presumably to go find someone who was socially inclined enough to talk. Ray continued to look at the girl. There was something strange in her manner. It felt like it should be obvious but he couldn’t quite—

“It’s her confidence,” a familiar voice said.                    

Ray turned around. A pale face with copper eyes and long straight purple hair falling around it greeted him. He smiled, “Hey Yasu.”

 Yasu Jacaranda, a childhood friend of Ray’s, smirked slightly then stepped forward to continue her analysis. “Her weapon is familiar to her: It doesn’t make her at all uncomfortable. She walks with it too easily for her to not be confident in her ability. But she is acting unsure. She keeps glancing around at the people around her and then looking away quickly. So, it is the people around her that make her feel uncomfortable. She feels out of place on this airship. The natural conclusion?”

She looked at Ray, “Yes, she is a little young to be going to Beacon.”

 

 

 

**_Or perhaps the story begins with a Friendship…_ **

 

“What do you think she meant by ‘Be ready’?”

People all around the ballroom where they had been told to sleep were thinking about possible answers to that question.

Earlier in the day, when they had arrived at Beacon after an amazing view of Beacon and the cliffs, they had gathered in the amphitheater and Headmaster Ozpin had spoken to them briefly. Afterward, one of the senior teachers, Glynda Goodwitch, had stepped forward and told them that their initiation would begin tomorrow. There were no hints, no description, no place to be. Just ‘Be ready’.

Now, at 9:15, with everyone in their sleepwear, and with sleeping bags laid out on the ballroom floor, the various cliques and strangers hypothesized about what adventures tomorrow would bring.

Ray looked around. Almost everyone had an excited or contented expression on their face. The groups of friends looked happy in each other’s company. A few meters away, Yasu was talking to a girl that she had met on the ride to Beacon.

Ray smiled slightly, then looked away. Out the window, the light of the moon shone down upon the lake beneath the cliffs. It reflected against the waves like a comet rising up from the water, at any moment about to burst forth and shower the world in its’ silver radiance. Not for the first time, Ray wondered about magnificent object that hung in the sky.

The moon had always held a special fascination for Ray. He wondered at its’ brilliance. He had spent many hours thinking upon about what could have happened to cause it to shatter like it had. The huge chunks of rock looked to be trailing behind it, as if the moon was speeding to some unknown destination and couldn’t be bothered with the effort of remaining whole. Of course, Ray knew that the moon had no such goal. Indeed, he knew that far from trailing behind it, the chunks of rock were actually orbiting with the moon, held in geosynchronous orbit. But that didn’t stop the image from being striking.

“Hey Buddy! Why are you wearing sunglasses? In case you didn’t get the memo, it’s the middle of the night!”

Ray turned around. A few rows of sleeping bags over, a tall, auburn haired, muscular boy was standing over another with a cruel smirk on his face. The other boy, who was indeed wearing sunglasses, had bright silver hair and was wearing mostly black clothes with a few hints of dark blue. Around his neck was a silver necklace of ornaments and chain that against the boy’s clothes gave the appearance of stars. Nearby, a discarded jacket of midnight and silver depicted some sort of bird.

Ray sighed, then got up. He had hoped that a school for those who were going to protect the people would be free from bullies. It would seem, however, that some things were universal. Ray began to make his way over, intending to give the bully a good talking down, maybe even a few physical encouragements. He hated bullies.

Before he could take more than a few steps however, the boy with the silver hair spoke up in a cool, calm, and completely unperturbed manner. “I wear sunglasses so that those around me need not see my eyes. Several people have run away after looking at them, and those who didn’t assured me that they have an unnerving quality. Would you care to see for yourself?”

The bully scoffed. “There’s no way that some dumb _eyes_ are gonna make me—

He stopped, because the silver haired teen had lowered his sunglasses and was staring at him.

Ray couldn’t see his eyes because of the way that he was positioned. But whatever they looked like, the auburn-haired kid couldn’t seem to do anything but stare. He grew pale, and his mouth moved furiously, but no sound came out. Then he turned around and proceeded to walk away as quickly as possible without actually running.

If Ray had blinked for a second, then he might have gone back to the window, maybe write a little bit, and then continued on his way through the next four years of Beacon without ever speaking to the boy again.

As it was, Ray did not blink, and therefore saw the split-second smile that appeared on the boy’s face. It was the smile of victory in the face of an opponent. But beyond that, it was a smile that Ray only recognized because he himself had worn it. It was the smile of having put a bully in their place.

Ray walked forward, and as the boy finished putting his sunglasses back on, he gestured to a nearby sleeping bag and asked “Is this seat taken?”

The boy looked up. He considered for a moment, and then shook his head.

Ray sat down. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Ray said “I must say, as a fellow craftsman in the art of facing bullies, that was masterfully done.” He held out his hand, “Ray Aureus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The boy reached out and shook his hand. “Orion Sterling. Likewise.”

There was a brief pause, then Orion said “you want to see my eyes, don’t you?” The question was posed with a slight hint of good natured exasperation.

Ray smiled sheepishly, and nodded.

“Even after you saw how it affected the walking mountain over there” he gestured with his head.

Ray nodded again. Now that he was closer to Orion, he could see that the sunglasses were closer in design to goggles than anything else. They covered a wider area then normal sunglasses, and seemed to be sturdier.

Orion inclined his head, then with a dramatic slowness, he removed the sunglasses form his face.

They were the most strange and wonderful eyes he had ever seen. Their crystalline depths, which seemed to go on to infinity, at first seemed a strange glowing shade of blue. But as he continued to look, they changed, a few streaks of other colors appearing around the pupil, fluctuating in a mesmerizing way: red, purple, white, green, orange, yellow, cyan, blue, the ever-shifting colors seemed more than anything else to exemplify the absolute wonder and infinity of the world around them.

There was silence for a while. Then:

“They’re artificial, aren’t they?” Ray asked.

Orion gave a small smile, “What gave it away?”

“Well your eyes, while complex, aren’t all that frightening. I assumed that you had some control over them, otherwise that big fellow wouldn’t have had any reason to walk away.”

Orion winked, and his eyes briefly flashed a terrifying shade of red.

Ray nodded. “The latest in Atlas technology?”

“No actually. I have a friend who lives on the eastern border of Vale that is an engineering prodigy.” He smiled, ironically “he said he moved there to be away from people, but I think he just likes being able to see the sun rise from the mountains. Anyway, he figured out a way using all known types of dust to make me some new eyes.” He tapped his temple twice before putting his sunglasses back on. “That’s why you see all those colors in my eyes. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite get the design right.” His face put on a slightly rueful look. “He made them too perfect. They can see practically every shade of color and every slight detail that I look at. It’s useful, but it also hurts sometimes. These,” He touched his sunglasses, “are indeed to prevent people from needing to look at my eyes it they don’t want to, but their greater purpose is to keep out some of the light and details. That way I can go through life without constant pain in my visual receptors.”

Ray frowned. “Do you think he could make you some better ones? Ones that don’t hurt you in sunlight?”

Orion’s shook his head, wryly, “He isn’t exactly the most logical person in the world. His creations, while ingenious, don’t come on command, and he doesn’t record his building process. People have tried to get him to, but he simply doesn’t have the mental capacity or presence of mind to keep track of what he’s doing. He simply has no idea what he did to give me sight.”

The two teens sat in solemn silence for a moment.

“Oh, not you again!” a pair of voices came from across the room. There, standing up, was the young girl from the airship, her tall blond friend, a white haired aristocratic looking girl, and sitting nearby, a black-haired girl with an exasperated expression. Some sort of argument was taking place, and it appeared that it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. “Yeah what’s your problem with my sister? She’s only trying to be nice!” “She’s a hazard to my health!!”

Ray and Orion looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

After a moment, their laughter subsided and Ray looked out the window at the moon.

Orion noticed. “Do you know how many legends there are about the moon?”

Ray shook his head.

“Oh, there are dozens and dozens. My personal favorite is one that originated in Mistral. It tells of how the gods were sad to see all the suffering that human kind had to go through, so they put the moon in the sky, and from the moons rays formed a substance to help humankind fight back. Dust.”

Ray smiled. “Are there any about why it’s shattered?”

“Oh, certainly. One speaks of a time long ago in Remnant’s history when there was a great conflict between its peoples…”

And the two new friends continued to talk of myths and legends long into the night, until Glynda Goodwitch came in and told them, in a voice that brooked no argument that they should really get to bed. Now.

But as they drifted off to sleep on the floor of the enormous ballroom, both were content in the knowledge that whatever else the next few years would bring, that their time at Beacon would be very, very interesting.

 

 

**_But in truth, the story probably begins with an Interview…_ **

 

“Well now, this has certainly been an interesting day for you, hasn’t it?”

Ray looked up from his seat at the table. Entering the room from the doorway in front of him was a man. The room was dark enough that Ray couldn’t see him clearly until he stepped into the circle of brightness caused by the light hanging over the table and two chairs.

The man was wearing black pants, a Black waistcoat with black buttons, and a very dark green coat. His shirt, which showed above and below the waistcoat, watched the color of the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, which was a bright emerald green. His hair, an elegant grey nest, accented his piercing eyes and small wire rimmed spectacles well. And although he had never seen him before, Ray recognized the man.

“Professor Ozpin, sir.” He said.

The Headmaster of Beacon Academy sat down, set a mug of tea on the table rested a walking stick against the table, placed a folder down in front of him, then continued “As I understand it, you put great time and effort into arriving at the entrance exam for Beacon on time this morning. You took most of your exam rather quickly, and then walked out during the physical combat session. And now, Mr. Aureus, you find yourself here, at my request, talking to the headmaster of the school whose entrance exam you walked out of.”

Ozpin tilted his head and gazed at Ray for a while. “Mr. Aureus, your application form to Beacon was one of the most promising I have seen in years. It was remarkably well written, and there were several letters of recommendation from your previous teachers praising your abilities as a fighter and a wordsmith with great vigor.”

He took out a sheet of paper from the file with some form of report on it. “So, imagine my surprise when the examiner described your written test as ‘poorly done’, your combat abilities as ‘unacceptable’, and your attitude as ‘Belligerent, disrespectful, and altogether unfit of becoming a huntsman.’”

Ozpin gave him a look. “He then goes on to describe in detail how your written test answers were inaccurate, how you had to restart your essay half-way through, how you disobeyed and insulted him, and how you put in no effort whatsoever on your combat exam.” All of this was said in a moderate tone of voice, as if they were discussing an unexpectedly warm and sunny day.

“Naturally, when faced with two such opposing accounts as these, I found it necessary to Investigate further.” He reached into the folder and pulled out several sheets of paper.

 “As such, I decided to see for myself. I have here the answers you wrote to the questions the examiner posed, as well as you essay on what makes a true huntsman or huntress. I also,” he took out a sheet of paper that had been taped together after having been ripped in half, “Have your original essay attempt.”

Ray closed his eyes. He had been angry when he was writing that essay, and the content was fiery to say the least. But he had been clear minded enough to realize that it would be bad if he turned it in. And now Professor Ozpin had it.

“I must say, after I placed it together, your first attempt was very well written and one of the more passionate pieces I have read. It seems that you had some rather strong ideas about what a huntsman should be, and you deemed your examiner to have fallen somewhat short of those standards.” For some reason, Ozpin looked amused.

“But before I looked over the rest of your exam questions and your combat recording, I wanted to hear what you had to say on the matter.”

Ray was taken aback. “Sir?”

“Tell me what happened today. Give me your version of events.”

Ray shifted. “Well, I suppose that I was wrong on my test, that I didn’t try during the combat and that I was disrespectful to the examiner.”

Suddenly Ozpin set the papers down and stared at Ray with an intensity that seemed to go right through him. “Well then Mr. Aureus, if that is the case then I suppose you have nothing left to do but accept your denial into my school.”

The change in the Headmaster’s voice from calm and serene to sharp and strict disoriented Ray. But before he could respond, Ozpin continued in a much gentler tone of voice, “Ray, I understand that you must be feeling frustrated right now. But what you are ignoring is that you are in a situation to explain your actions. I called _you_ here. Not your examiner. You are sitting in a room with the person who has final word over whether you are admitted or not. You,” he pointed a finger, “have the opportunity to convince me to accept you. To explain your reasoning and what caused it. But so far, all you have shown is that in defeat you are respectable to the one you deem to be your opponent, unless of course you think they are trying to mock you, in which case you are short tempered and sarcastic. So,” Ozpin sat back in his chair, “I am going to ask you once again: what is your version of the events of today.”

Ray didn’t speak for a moment. This was far from what he had come to expect from adults in positions of power. But Ozpin was right: an opportunity such as this was unlikely to occur again. So, he decided to tell the truth.

"In some ways, the examiner was probably right. My test answers probably did not meet the expectations, I did not give my best effort on the combat and I was disrespectful to him. But these things, while maybe uncalled for, were a direct result of the examiner's attitude and actions."

Here Ray paused to gauge the Headmaster's reaction. There wasn't much; just a raised eyebrow and a sim of tea. Ozpin motioned for him to continue.

"I have spent a lot of time preparing to become a huntsman. Beacon Academy has a high reputation, as to huntsmen in general. So, I put a lot of effort into making sure I was ready for the exam. I trained harder, I read up on huntsmen and huntress encounters of the past. I even looked at ancient records about the Grimm. And, as you mentioned, I made sure that I arrived for the exam early.

"I live on the coast, and it’s a bit of a journey to the testing building. I had to take a boat across the river and a bus to the other end of the city. I had planned it for a while, and left hours in advance. It was supposed to be a difficult test of my abilities. But when I arrived, all of my expectations were proven wrong. The examiner, someone who was supposed to separate the good huntsmen and huntress candidates from the bad, was himself undeserving of the title of huntsman."

Ozpin's eyebrows rose higher. Some part of Ray told him that getting worked up probably wouldn't help matters, but he had been given a chance to speak his mind, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to use it.

"When I entered the exam room, he was asleep in his chair. His clothes were unprofessional and untidy, as was his hair. His desk was messy, and the papers had several coffee stains on them. When someone finally woke him up, he couldn’t remember what he was doing there. We had to remind him. He was clumsy, spilling coffee and dropping papers all over the place.

“When he began to ask test questions, he hadn’t prepared any oral questions, or even bothered to get a list of questions previously asked. Instead, he improvised, asking whatever he wanted. The questions he asked were badly worded, basic, redundant, irrelevant, and in some cases vulgar. I was frustrated, and the answers I gave to those questions showed my annoyance. I wrote several comments about the level of experience the applicants had that the examiner was ignoring. By the time I began my essay attempt, I was very angry, and the essay showed as much. But I wanted to gain entrance to your school, so I tore it in half and started again. In the time this had taken, the examiner had made several scathing remarks about all of us. I spoke back a few times. But the worst thing was the combat exam.

Every single applicant in that room almost certainly had years of experience in a combat school. If not, then they probably had years of experience in a combat school. If not, then they probably had to fight for their lives. And the examiner, who continued to give us superior looks and comments, asked us to attack a dummy. A large, unmoving dummy with no details. It wasn’t even a real dummy; the examiner had literally placed a punching bag on the ground. I couldn’t believe it. I said as much. I told him that I wouldn’t waste my time on something so basic. He took that a challenge to is authority, and told me to fight him.”

Ray stopped, and took a few breaths. “So, I left.”

Ozpin tilted his head. “Why didn’t you fight him?” He asked.

Ray let out a laugh that was much more like a scoff. “I couldn’t do that. He assumed that he was better than everyone there. He was sloppy. His stance was terrible, and I had seen how clumsy he was. I could see half a dozen ways to hit him the way he was standing. I would’ve killed him if I didn’t hold back, and that is the exact thing that I was trying to avoid. It was supposed to be a test of our capabilities, not a way for an arrogant man to prove his superiority. Even if I had managed to beat him without hurting him, he would have been furious. I could read it in every sentence he spoke.”

Ray looked at Ozpin with unmoving eyes. “Also, by that point I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go to a school that employed such a man. I’m still not sure I do. So you tell me Professor Ozpin, why should I have stayed? And for that matter, why should I stay now? What could a school such as this one offer me that employed an examiner that was as lazy, unprofessional, rude, inexperienced, and arrogant as that man was?”

Ozpin took a slow sip of his tea. “Well, put like that, I cannot argue with your decision. However, there are several facts that you are unaware of.

“The first is that our regular examiner has fallen rather ill, and we were forced to find a replacement of rather short notice. The second is that we record every exam. Normally we have no reason to watch them, but this time we had a replacement, so I thought I would check in every now and then. As soon as I was aware of the situation, I sent a teacher down to replace him. The third thing is that once she was there, the teacher I sent found a very interesting situation.”

Ozpin looked at Ray over his spectacles. “It seems that several of the applicants were also unsatisfied with the substitute examiner, but assumed that he had some right to be there. After they witnessed your actions however, it seems that they were inspired to take matters into their own hands. They, knowing that at least the combat session was video recorded, and knowing what would be a good test of their abilities, began to set up their own testing grounds, ignoring the examiner. When the teacher I had sent arrived, they assumed nothing and made her prove that she was not incompetent. Once she had, they told her in no uncertain terms how horrible the examiner had been.”

A smile appeared on the Headmaster’s face, “Apparently, they also made it clear that they thought that _you_ should be commended, as without your actions they would likely have not taken the steps to ensure their own test was fair. It seems that they were rather vocal on that point.”

Ray sat in a stunned silence. Ozpin sipped his tea contentedly.

After a moment, the Headmaster reached onto the folder and pulled out one more piece of paper.

“There is however one more thing that I would like to talk to you about.”

Ray shook himself out of his daze and looked at him questioningly.

“Regardless of anything your examiner of your fellow applicants said, I must come to my own conclusion in regards to your application. And regardless of your examiner’s or your fellow applicants’ accounts of what happened, you did things during your exam that we do not expect to see at a place of testing.”

Ray sighed, “Yes. I understand. It’s completely reasonable. I shouldn’t have…”

He stopped, because Ozpin had handed him the sheet of paper. It was his application form to Beacon Academy. Written across it in confident, looping writing was ‘ ** _ACCEPTED_** ’.

Ray looked at it, up to Ozpin, and then back down to the paper. “What?”

“The ship to Beacon leaves from the Cartuan Shipyard at 9:00 a.m. on the 21st. I imagine that you’ll want to be there early.”

Then Ozpin reached across the table and shook the astonished Ray’s hand.

“Congratulations on your acceptance young man. I do hope that you will not find my school lacking when you arrive.”

 

**End of Chapter One**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like it! Reviews are welcome, and I'd love your feedback. If you have an objection, I simply ask that you phrase it in such a way that it might actually be useful to me in editing or writing the rest of this story. I look forward to seeing your responses.


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